


Day before Decom

by Memingerss



Category: Codename: Kids Next Door
Genre: F/M, Sadness, angsty, childhood crushes, these poor kids
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-22
Updated: 2017-06-22
Packaged: 2018-11-17 11:09:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 757
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11274231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Memingerss/pseuds/Memingerss
Summary: Tomorrow, Numbuh 420 is turning 13. Tomorrow, Numbuh 420 is getting decommissioned. Tomorrow, Numbuh 420 forgets his whole life as an operative. But today, Numbuh 666 wants to make sure that doesn't happen.





	Day before Decom

     Numbuh 666 sat on one of the decks of her sector. Her legs dangled between the posts of the railing as she looked out over the town. In one of her rare moments, she was quiet and calm. Well, maybe not calm, but she wasn’t running around or blowing anything up. She was just sitting, her hands braced on the wood behind her as she thought, a large wrapped rectangle at her side.

     “Robs,” came a cool voice behind her, bringing her from her drifting. She turned her head, seeing her leader behind her.

     “420,” she mumbled as he took a seat beside her. She looked at him in the fading light of evening, as though trying to memorize how he looked. Her eyes scanned over his poofy blond hair, the freckles on his cheeks, and his almost troubled frown. His visor was off for once; she was glad to see his eyes.

     Numbuh 420 turned, giving her a smile that she knew was fake. He was trying to comfort her, knowing she had to be hurting just as much as he was for what was going to happen tomorrow. She could only sigh, giving back a smile that was just as fake, just as full of false comfort. She scooted closer to him and laid her head on his shoulder; he rubbed her upper arm with his gloved hand.

     “I, uh…” he paused, sighing softly. “Robs, I’m sorry.” She gave him a puzzled look, sitting up straighter.

     “For what? Not like you can stop getting older,” she said with a raised eyebrow.

     “No, that’s not why I’m apologizing,” he continued, looking up at the clouds above them. “I’m sorry that I’m just leaving you to lead Sector M. I know how you can beat yourself up if things go wrong.”

     “What, think I can’t do it?” she sneered, tapping her knuckles on his chest. She was trying to seem uplifting and confident, but they both knew it was a façade.

     “No,” he snorted, giving her an eye roll. “I think you’ll be _great_ at leading the sector.” He ran a hand through her ponytail. “I just don’t want you to stress about it too much.”

     “I’ll try not to,” she teased, elbowing him in the ribs. Her eyes landed on the gift beside her. “Oh, here.” She slid it into 420’s lap. “Happy early birthday.”

     His eyes met hers in the soft orange light of the sunset. She was hurting; it was plain as day on her face. Before he could stop himself, he’d pulled her into a kiss that conveyed desperation and need and “god I wish tomorrow would never come”. She pulled back quickly, her head bowing as she tried to not cry.

     “Just open the stupid gift,” she choked out, rubbing at her eye with the heel of her hand. After a moment of hesitation, he complied, ripping the teal paper off to reveal a large scrapbook. He jolted as he felt her lean into his side again, but quickly put his arm around her shoulder.

     He lifted open the cover of the book, seeing that the first page held a picture of them in his living room. He flipped through the pages, noting that all the pictures were of them when they weren’t at the sector or in their uniforms. “I just…” she piped up, making him glance up. “If there’s even a _chance_ that I can help you remember me, or what we had…” She smiled up at him, and he felt heartache at the small tears that had accumulated in her eyes. “You know I have to take that chance.”

     Numbuh 420 gently touched the photo on the page before him. It was them, huge smiles on their faces as they stood in the middle of the local fair. “You know I can’t have this,” he murmured, scrubbing at his eye with his knuckles. “Numbuh 86 would kill you if she knew you were giving me something to help me remember.”

     “Well… who said 86 had to know?”

     He looked up at his second-in-command, and his heart fluttered at the hopeful and mischievous smile on her face, the glint in her eyes, the softness of the lighting. She was right. Numbuh 86 _didn’t_ have to know. He smiled, laughter starting to bubble up in his chest. He laughed as she hugged him, a few rare tears welling up in his eyes. He didn’t want to forget her, and dammit, as long as he had a say in it, he wouldn’t.


End file.
